


Bound by Magic

by Padderly



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, F/M, Gryffindor, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Fourth Year, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Slytherin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27128620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Padderly/pseuds/Padderly
Summary: Entering into your fourth year was supposed to be seamless, but unforeseen events caused your life to spiral.  Everything was completely uprooted when you were pulled from class to learn your parents lifeless bodies had been discovered sprawled on the family room floor.As an Ilvermorny transfer student, you must survive your fourth year at Hogwarts.  Adjusting to a new school is difficult, and making new friends can be hard.  You meet a pure blood Wizard who just might be willing to help you through the change.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Reader, Draco Malfoy/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	1. Farewell Charms

You fidgeted your navy blue and cranberry plaid skirt, straightened it out at your knees and patted it smoothly as you sat in the backseat of your Aunt and Uncles SUV. Your nerves were on edge, anticipating arrival to your new school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Your mother, father and aunt had all attended and now you would be as well. Entering into your fourth year was supposed to be seamless, but unforeseen events caused your life to spiral. Everything was completely uprooted when you were pulled from class to learn your parents lifeless bodies had been discovered sprawled on the family room floor. It was the worst day of your life, and a memory you forbade your mind to wander over. 

The Magical Congress of the United States of America investigation came short with no leads. Your parents had been suspected of being murdered by the Killing Curse and you moved overseas to the only other family you knew. Aunt Leenia and Uncle Teddy Collins took you in for the remainder of your third year and summer at their home in a little town called Ottery St. Catchpole. You could not complain about the tiny settlement, it’s large open fields gave you the peace you needed for recuperation. Your aunt and uncle lived in a very large barn converted into a house; Uncle Teddy had told you there was once an old farmhouse in conjunction, but was destroyed in a storm. 

“Nearly there, dear,” said Uncle Teddy, glancing at you through his spectacles in the rear-view mirror. He turned down a busy street toward the train station, looking for a place to park. Uncle Teddy was a no-maj, born with no magical abilities and raised by non-magical parents. He met your aunt many years after she left Hogwarts, joking it took him years to get used to her magical abilities. _“It was such a shock when she turned my yapping dog into a squeaking hamster, I thought I’d ended up in the loony bin!”_ he told you. Only when he saw the same speckled pattern on the hamster's nose that his dog had on it’s muzzle did he believe in the Wizarding World. He was a kind, good-natured man who worked in a no-maj hospital. And was, what non magical folk called a doctor, healing sick patients without a wand or potion. You marveled at how he could accomplish such a feat. 

After parking, your uncle opened the back of the SUV, “I still can’t believe everything fit in here,” marveled Uncle Teddy as he hoisted your trunk onto a trolly. 

“Undetectable Extension Charm,” Aunt Leenia whispered in your ear and held a finger to her lips so you would not tell your uncle. You gave her a sly grin, lifting Figment--your white and dusty-copper barn owl--by the top of his cage. He hooted softly at you, nibbling the side of the black bars, expecting a treat. “Come now, platform nine and three-quarters is this way.”

After gently placing Figment on top of your trunk, you followed, your uncle in tow, hauling the trolly behind him. Aunt Leenia was a sweet woman and was your mother's younger and only sister. She was not a strict witch, allowing you to sleep in when you wanted and sometimes let you shirk on your chores--though you had a sneaking suspicion she had been lenient with you over the past summer. She shared your mother's blue eyes and short height, but after that, the similarities ended. She was a quite plump with a curvy bust. Her hair was wavy and held a deep orange hue that stopped just past her shoulders. She often had it pulled back while working around the house. Aunt Leenia spent her time sewing, knitting and painting, sometimes selling her work to no-maj's in town. Though blunt, she often spoke her mind which occasionally ended a friendly conversation with conflict. 

And, as for yourself, you were always quite a petite girl with a delicate stature. Though small you were adventurous. Before your parents death, you and your friends often played pranks and laughed, frequently landing you in detention at Ilvermorny. Now, however you felt more like your mother's unsociable personality, which was not surprising considering the only two real people you had contact with the past seven months were your aunt and uncle. 

“Right now, here we are,” said Aunt Leenia, stopping before a red brick wall between platforms nine and ten. She looked at you and your uncle expectantly. 

“Uhhh, I think that is a wall, love,” said Uncle Teddy, bringing the trolly to a stop. 

“That’s because it is a wall, dear. Through here is platform nine and three-quarters. Come now, watch me and follow,” Aunt Leenia wasted no time in disappearing quicker than the beat of a doxy's wing. You turned and raised your eyebrow at Uncle Teddy, but he just shrugged. You were not quite sure how she had vanished through the wall, but you had a sneaking suspicion. Taking a deep breath you marched forward, closing your (e/c) eyes as you were about to walk face first into the red brick. 

A slight tingling sensation tickled your body as you passed through the magical veil. “Wow,” you breathed. Platforms nine and ten had evaporated completely, and a black sign with gold writing hung overhead that read _Platform Nine and Three-Quarters_. Looking onward, you were greeted with the site of a sleek crimson train billowing clouds of white smoke, on it's side the words _Hogwarts Express_ were written. Students and parents were saying their goodbyes, walking on the cobblestone platforms, pulling trolleys much like your own. Owls hooted, cats mewed, and you were even sure you heard the croak of a frog. Many sat it cages like your own owl, Figment, waiting for the opportunity to be released. 

“Just as I remembered it,” said Aunt Leenia proudly, taking in the scene before her. 

“Blimey,” said Uncle Teddy in disbelief from your left. The three of you walked forward, closing in on one of the doors to the train. 

“(Y/N), dear, may I have a word with you before your departure?” asked Aunt Leenia gently. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, you were about to leave the safety of your family behind. Since your parents death, they had been your security blanket, saying all of the right words you needed to hear in your unconditional anguish. 

The two of you stepped to a more secluded location, away from families hugging their children goodbye. “Now, I know since the death of your parents, times have been hard.” The corners of your eyes pricked, and your body felt numb at the mention of your parents, “But if there’s one thing I know is that Hogwarts will be good for you, and if you find things get too difficult your uncle and I are just one owl post away.”

“Thanks Aunt Leenia,” you said, and you truly meant it, “I’m a little nervous to go to a new school.” you admitted, fidgeting with the hem of your navy blue sweater. 

“I know, dear, it’s only natural. You will miss your friends at your old school, but I promise you will find new ones. From what I hear, the two schools are very similar, remember the four houses we talked about?” You smiled and nodded. Just like Ilvermorny, Hogwarts divided it’s students into four houses. 

“There is one last thing I wanted to give you. It belonged to your mother, given to her by your father on their first date.” She held out her palm, and in it sat a brown leather chord with a silver owl charm. 

You took it from her hand, holding it up to examine. It was a bracelet, and while the leather was thin, it was sturdy. If it were to snag on anything, it would not break. The owl was no larger than the tip of your pinky finger, it’s wings were spread as if it were in mid-flight. In its talons was an envelope, the letter sealed with a tiny crimson heart. “Aunt Leenia…” you said, at a loss for words. You had seen your mother wear the bracelet, though you never knew it’s origins. 

“Thought it could remind you of home whenever you need it.” She said, pulling you into her arms. This was a goodbye hug, and while your eyes still pricked, you refused to let yourself cry. 

“Thank you,” you said. Slipping the bracelet on your right wrist, you walked toward the Hogwarts Express and saw your uncle talking animatedly with a red-headed man his age. 

“Really? And you plug it into a socket to turn it on? You know, I’ve got a whole collection of sockets in my shed.” You heard the red-head say proudly. 

“‘Lo Mr. Weasley.” Your aunt addressed the man, “There you are, Teddy. Say your last goodbyes to (Y/N).” Uncle Teddy seemed somewhat reluctant to turn from Mr. Weasley, but his eyes lit up when he saw your face. 

“Bye now, (Y/N). Have fun and behave, won’t you?” He leaned down to give you a one handed hug and a peck on the cheek, “Here’s your luggage for the train. Your aunt packed your robes in it,” He handed you a dark brown leather bag with his other hand. “Galleon’s in there as well.” 

“Bye. I’ll miss you.” You gave them one last wave before stepping onto the Hogwarts Express. Now that you were walking away, you gained a little more confidence. After all, saying goodbye was always the hardest part. 

Finding an empty compartment, you stowed your bag in the overhead storage rack and looked out the window. A whistle blew and the train moved slowly from the station. You spotted your aunt and uncle, still chatting animatedly with Mr. Weasley. A woman you assumed to be his wife joined them as well. 

“‘Scuse me.” Said a quiet voice, you looked to the compartment entrance where a small witch stood. She had dark auburn hair styled in a long pixie cut. She had a smattering of freckles that kissed the bridge of her nose and looked at you with timid butterscotch eyes, “Mind if we sit with you? All the other compartments are full.” She looked embarrassed, rubbing the back of her neck. 

“Of course,” You said, pulling Figment’s cage from the seat across from you, setting him to your right. A taller girl with long blond hair and blue eyes followed her in. She wore peculiar radish earrings and in her hand she held a book so small, the title was impossible to read. They stored their luggage and sat down. The auburn-haired girl had a tiny cage with the proudest looking tawny screech owl you had ever seen. He looked briefly at Figment with luminous canary yellow eyes, then tucked his head under his wing. 

“I’m Toby Fawley and this is Luna Lovegood,” said Toby, then as an afterthought she indicated to her owl, “And Sully.”

“(F/N)(L/N)... and this is Figment,” you replied, following her example. 

“Did an augurey sing to you recently?” Asked Luna airily, her face so close to her miniature book, her nose and mouth nearly touched the pages. 

“Errr… what?” You asked, completely caught off guard. 

“Your voice. There’s something strange with it. It’s what happens when an augurey sings to you.” She explained. 

“No it’s not, Luna. She has an accent.” Said Toby, giving you an apologetic glance. 

You laughed, albeit slightly uncomfortable, “No. I’m from America, I’m a transfer student this year.”

“Wow, really?” Asked Toby, sounding genuinely impressed. “Did you go to Ilvermorny?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, adjusting your navy blue and cranberry plaid skirt beneath you to get more comfortable.

“What’s it like?”

“Well, I can’t say for sure, because I have nothing to compare it to, but I hear it’s a lot like Hogwarts. Ilvermorny’s founders modeled the school after it. We even have four houses.” You inwardly flinched, _we even have_. Ilvermorny was no longer your home. 

Toby did not seem to notice, “They can’t be the same ones, can they? Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Slytherin?”

“No, no.” You smiled, “The houses are different, but my aunt told me they’re similar in the types of students they take in.”

“Wicked,” Said Toby, her butterscotch eyes alight with wonder, “I’d fancy a trip abroad to the states.” You raised your (h/c) eyebrows in surprise. Without a doubt you knew Toby was being genuine and honest. “What year are you in?”

“Going into my fourth.” 

“Same here, Luna’s one year below,” Luna’s blue eyes were glued to her book, but gave a small nod of affirmation. 

Just then the compartment door gently slid open. An elderly witch had a cart full of pastries and sweets, “Anything from the trolly, dears?” she asked. 

The assortment of items on the trolly were different from anything you would get back home. Together you and Toby bought four pumpkin pasties, six chocolate frogs and a licorice wand. Luna put her book down to chew slowly on a cauldron cake. 

Conversation flowed easily between you and Toby, Luna sometimes chiming in with her strange remarks. Oddly, you did not mind Luna, and began to find her somewhat endearing--even if what she often said was completely off the wall. A half hour passed after polishing off your food, and Toby suggested the three of you change into your school robes. 

You noticed Luna’s robes had a blue crest with a raven on the front, while Toby’s crest was emerald green with a silver snake twisted into a backwards _S_. Their ties matched the crests colors. You knew it had to be their houses but before you could ask, the compartment door roughly slid open. A tall thin girl entered. Her hair was nearly platinum blonde and cascaded in large ringlets halfway down her chest. Her heavy mascara and long lashes complimented her bright green eyes. In her arms she protectively held a fluffy midnight-black cat against her curvy chest. 

“There you are! I had to endure the entire train ride with Millicent and Pansy, didn’t I?” She looked at Toby accusingly and the cat hopped out of her arms onto your seat. He purred and rubbed his cheek against your arm, and you promptly lifted your hand to scratch his head. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to listen to Pansy talk about her letter exchange with Draco all summer?” 

“Sorry, Gwen! Couldn’t find you and was trying to dodge Wayne Hopkins.” She nodded her head toward Luna, as if that explained everything. 

Gwen looked thoughtfully at Luna and said, “Well next time, come find me. We nearly missed the entire ride together.” She abruptly turned to you, “You’re new.” It wasn’t a question, and her green eyes bored into you expectantly. You suddenly felt stripped on the surface. 

“H-how?” You stammered, furrowing your brow. 

“Your robes, they don’t have an insignia. And I’ve never seen you before. I know everyone at Hogwarts,” she said matter of factly. 

You looked at her robes and noticed her emerald and silver striped tie. Similarly to Toby’s, she too had the crest of a snake, “This is (F/N)(L/N). She just transferred from Ilvermorny and will be the same year as us. (F/N), this is Gwendolyn Ashlow.” 

“Ilvermorny!” Gwen exclaimed, quickly taking the seat next to you, “Is it true you can perform magic without a wand?” then as an afterthought she briefly turned to Toby, “And don’t say my full name, Toby, you know I hate that.”

Toby sniggered and you said, “Err, yeah. I mean, I’m not very good at it, but it’s one of the foundations of…”

“The Native Americans knew how to perform magic without wands, and attended Ilvermorny to learn more. The four houses are based off of their magical creatures.”

You were beginning to suspect Gwen knew more about Ilvermorny than you, so you decided to change the subject. “So... the four houses at Hogwarts, which one are you?” you asked. 

“Toby and I are in Slytherin, Luna here is in Ravenclaw. Which house are you hoping to get sorted into?” asked Gwen. 

“Well, from what my aunt told me, the four houses at Hogwarts are similar to the houses at Ilvermorny. I was in Wampus, so I guess the equivalent here would be Gryffindor.” Simultaneously, both Gwen and Toby’s noses wrinkled at your answer, “What?” You asked looking from one to another. 

“There’s nothing wrong with Gryffindor, per se.” said Toby carefully, “It’s just that Slytherin and Gryffindor have a long unspoken rivalry. We’re both alike in accomplishments, but Gryffindors tend to act more rashly, while Slytherin’s take our time to think through our actions.” 

“My parents and aunt were in Gryffindor,” you said, feeling dejected for the first time since you boarded the train. 

Sensing this, Gwen said, “Don’t worry, (Y/N). Gryffindors are strong, brave and Merlin if you get in their way, watch out. They will never turn their backs on you.”

“Gryffindors _are_ very brave.” Said Luna dreamily, echoing Gwen’s sentiment. 

Your uncertainty lingered as the train began to slow. Soon you would find which house you truly belonged in. You secretly would not mind being in Slytherin with Gwen and Toby. Already knowing someone would make your life easier. Even being housed with Luna would be welcoming--you found her oddly alluring. 

But you felt your heart belonged in Gryffindor. It was, after all, Wampus’ counterpart. Your family had a history with the house. And even though they were gone, you had thought being in Gryffindor would allow you to become closer to your parents; you wanted to be like them. Aunt Leenia spoke highly of the Weasley neighbors, and all seven of their children had been placed there. 

Glancing out the window you noticed it had grown quite dark outside. Without looking, your left hand found your right. Pulling at the soft leather cord, your fingers rolled over the small silver owl. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! and welcome to my first fic. In my mind I have the remaining three years planned out for our dear reader. I tried my hardest to follow the main plot for Rowling's works, but there may be some deviation. To be honest, it's been a while since I read the Harry Potter series, but I am a total nerd for it and read each book at least seven times. Sometimes I will open the book to try to reflect my story based what happened in Rowling's story, so some phrases may be the same that you find in the books.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this work, I really loved writing it. So far the first part is not completed, but I am nearly there. I still have some editing and revising to go over, so chapters will be updated periodically.
> 
> If you are interested in the owl charm, it is currently available by Pandora. I couldn't resist and purchased it to make a bracelet very similar to the one our reader owns.
> 
> I will be posting pictures throughout this fic... ones that gave me inspiration and I hope they don't distract you from the main storyline. Thank you so much for reading, and enjoy!


	2. The Wampus and the Lion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers! I added a flashback in this chapter. I had intended for it to go later in the story, but I felt like this was the best place. I know it's not a huge update on my work, but gives a glimpse into reader's life at Ilvermorny. 
> 
> Professor Hornwood is a DADA teacher. From what I gathered, Ilvermorny has set teachers for each house, so students from different houses don't have classes with each other! If this is wrong, please let me know. There are a lot of unanswered questions about the school that I can't always find. 
> 
> My version of Professor Hornwood, I imagine she is somewhat of a trickster. And she's totally joking when she tells the students they might be attacked. I mean... I've never seen Professor Hornwood used in a fic, so the only thing thats accurate about her is her age (she's described as a very young professor). 
> 
> Also! I know the sorting is described a little differently by Rowling, but this is how I imagine it may take place.

**Figment**

Species: Barn Owl

Weight: 1.4 lbs

Owner: Reader

Before leaving the train you pulled your navy blue sweater snugly over Figment’s cage, Toby did the same with Sully and Gwen bundled her black cat--whose name she told you was Grimm--into her cloak. Following the trio off the train, sheets of ice cold rain began to fall from the sky. You pulled the hood of your cloak over your head to shield yourself from the biting wind. On the far end of the platform, you spied a silhouette of the largest man you had ever seen. 

Before you could inquire Toby, Gwen and Luna moved forward quickly, trying to reach their destination before getting soaked. “Oooh, I wouldn’t fancy crossing the lake in this weather,” a girl commented to your right. The throng of students moved forward until you reached a horseless carriage. You filed in behind Gwen, and immediately after taking your seat, the carriage lurched forward, splashing its way toward the castle. 

The four of you were silent as the carriage swayed against the gale. You were grateful for the shelter the windows provided. The moment you had been anticipating the entire train ride finally came into view as you approached Hogwarts, the castles' many lights twinkled through the downpour. A knot twisted in your gut as it reminded you of home. The castle's high towers and turrets reflected your memory of Ilvermorny. 

When the carriage came to a halt, to avoid the rain you sprinted up the stairs through a set of giant oak doors and into a huge, torch-lit entrance hall with a large marble staircase. You stood with the group of students when there were suddenly shrieks of panic as red water balloons were pelted from above. Toby, Gwen and Luna--knowing where to go--bolted for another door to avoid the onslaught. You, on the other hand, got caught in the fray. 

Smaller than most students, you were easily pushed to the back of the crowd until you found yourself shoved face first into the chest of someone against the wall. “ _Ouch_!” he spluttered. 

Regaining your balance, you quickly stepped back, realizing you had also effectively smashed his foot with your own. Your (e/c) eyes looked up into the face of a boy about your age with platinum blonde hair. He had high cheekbones, prominent jawline and a haughty face, his silver eyes boring into your own. “Sorry,” you said sheepishly. 

“Watch where you’re going, first year.” he said with an annoyingly arrogant air. 

“I’m not a first year,” you said defensively, returning his sneer with your own, “I’m a transfer student.”

“Rubbish. You’re what? Four-foot nothing and weigh probably a hundred pounds soaking wet.” he ridiculed. 

“I’m NOT four-foot--” just then a torrent of ice cold water soaked the back of your robes, causing you to lift your arms. Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt it running down the crown of your head, permeating your robes until it seeped to your spine and backside. 

His silver eyes were alight with amusement and he repeated the words back at you, “A hundred pounds soaking wet.”

Despite the brisk chill, you felt a blush creeping into your cheeks. He looked as if he were going to say more, but his eyes caught sight of something behind you and turned toward the direction Toby, Gwen and Luna had gone. “Wait--” you began to follow, heated by the conversation you were by no means done. 

“There you are, you must be (F/N)(L/N).” You turned your attention to a tall, severe-looking older witch whose dark hair was pulled back into a tight bun. “Oh for goodness sakes, that Poltergeist…” She flourished her wand and steam began rising from your robes. Ice cold water was replaced by a cozy warming sensation. 

“I’m Professor McGonagall. Not many transfer students attend Hogwarts. You are the only one this year.” She said matter of factly. 

You looked back for the blonde boy, but he had already disappeared through the doors, “Th-thank you,” You said through hitched breath, grateful to be free of water-logged robes, “Should I go…” You indicated to the doorway the rest of the students gathered through. 

“No, no. You must first be sorted into your house. We will do it privately before the sorting ceremony. Unless, of course, you want to be sorted with the first years.” 

“No!” You practically shouted, “I mean, I’d prefer to do it privately. Like you said.”

She nodded, “Good. Now, follow me.”

You walked to the side, down a corridor, your sneakers squeaking on the stone floor. She turned into a small classroom with no more than twelve desks. With the wave of her wand, Professor McGonagall produced an extremely worn wizard hat on the front desk. “Now then,” She turned to you, “The Sorting Hat will decide which house you belong to.” 

_The huge entryway was made of white marble with large imperial stone pillars that lined the hall. In front of you stood two mahogany doors that rounded out at the top; they were the largest doors you had ever seen. Above them in bright gold cursive, you read the words_ Ilvermorny Sorting Room _._

_The first-years were silent as a witch no older than twenty appeared before you. She wore ceremonial blue and cranberry robes with a crisp-looking witches hat perched upon her head. Her hair was dark, smooth and shiny, and though she was facing you, you could tell it reached her mid-back by the way it framed the sides of her body. Her eyes were like none other you had ever seen, as her irises were a strange ruby color. Her expression was rather playful, she flashed brilliant white teeth and said, “Greetings, students! Welcome to Ilvermorny! I’m Professor Hornwood. I teach Defense Against the Dark Arts for Wampus,” you had heard of Wampus, as your mother told you it was one of the houses at Ilvermorny, “Through these doors, you will be judged by four fantastic beasts. They will decide which house you belong to. If, by some chance you are chosen by two, think carefully, because you will have a choice to make. You must decide which house you want to belong to, and will remain there for the next seven years. You will enter the Sorting Room when your name is called, wait here while I check to make sure they’re ready.”_

_There was a murmur among the crowd, and your fellow first-years voiced their thoughts of apprehension, “What do you think they’re going to do? Will it be some kind of test?”_

_“Judges? I didn’t know there would be judges!”_

_“Did she say beasts?”_

_You saw a frizzy red-headed girl with purple glasses anxiously squeak, “What happens if no one chooses me?”_

_“You’ll be sent home, duh!” said another, rather pompously._

_Professor Hornwood turned toward the great mahogany doors, but paused as if forgetting something. She swung back around to face your group, a mischievous glint colored her ruby eyes, and she flashed her perfectly white teeth once again, “Oh! I almost forgot, don’t cower or show fear before the four beasts. They don’t like that and might not pick you,” she pointedly looked at the red-headed girl, “They’re unpredictable. Can sense fear and if you’re_ not _chosen, they just might attack instead.”_

_A deadly silence fell over the crowd. You straightened your back and hardened your features, trying your best to keep your face neutral. “Is she serious?” someone whispered as Professor Hornwood disappeared through the doors._

_You had a feeling you knew what the four beasts were, for four beasts represented each house: Horned Serpent, Wampus, Pukwudgie and Thunderbird. You wondered what would happen if two houses chose you. How would you decide which to accept? If you picked one over the other would the beast who was not selected take offense? You imagined it might attack._

_After half the students had been called forth, the giant mahogany doors opened slightly, and Professor Hornwood held her parchment in her hands, “(F/N)(L/N),” she said, peeking through the gap. You took a deep breath and stepped forward, legs wobbling like jello._

_When you walked through the doors, you squinted against rays of bright light. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the sunshine beaming through an enormous skylight. You were in an auditorium sized round room. Similar to the entryway, the entire room’s structure was made from marble with large supporting imperial pillars. In the middle of the white floor, an enormous maple tree was embedded in the stone, its trunk was blue and many leaves cranberry-red. Surrounding it was a whirlpool of sparkling stars, scattered leaves and outlines of constellations. They moved slowly, charmed by magic. You could hear hushed whispers from above, and you realized high in the rafters of the cathedral-like ceiling, hundreds of students in blue and cranberry robes were sitting. And they were all staring at you._

_“(F/N)(L/N) for Ilvermorny Sorting,” announced Professor Hornwood, loud enough for the entire school to hear, “(F/N), please step forward.”_

_You imagined yourself fleeing in the opposite direction, back through the doors you came through. But your feet carried you forward and you stood in the center of the marble maple tree. Just then you heard a low screech, and you turned toward the sound. An enormous half-eagle, half-griffin looking creature stood nearly three times your height. It’s talons were so large, they were the size of a grown man’s body. It’s colossal wings were spread as it examined you, head tilted to the side. It was a thunderbird carved from very old wood. The creature had been enchanted to life. As it turned from you, you saw two sets of smaller wings lining it’s back and base of a forked lions tail._

_It took you a moment to realize the thunderbird had moved so a strange bipedal wooden creature could approach you next. You at first mistook it for a Goblin, but then recognized it as a pukwudgie. It’s ears were long and pointed like a house elf, and lining it’s back was an unmistakable set of hard quills that looked so heavy it caused a permanent hunch. It barely looked at you as it grumbled and hobbled past, reminding you of a bumbling elderly man._

_As the pukwudgie shuffled next to the thunderbird, a great dragon-like serpent swiftly slithered forward and circled you gracefully. It was the horned serpent and it was the only beast whose part of body was not wood. A large sapphire jewel sat between its two great horns and many spikes. It flicked its large tongue, and you got the distinct feeling the horned serpent was sentient. Its eyes held intelligence and knowledge as it studied you._

_It was not a surprise when the wampus approached. The jungle cat vaguely resembled a mountain lion. Though smaller than the rest, it had a body with muscles so powerful you knew it was something you never wanted to cross. It prowled with six legs on pads of feet larger than your face. This creature, no doubt, was the least tame of the wooden crew, emitting low growls as it stalked back and forth, eyes fixated on your own. Nerves jittered through you as you imagine the wampus pouncing on you like prey._

_Your heart thundered, but the creature turned its head away, shaking it and growling to itself as the horned serpent approached you once more. Your attention snapped to the serpents sapphire jewel as it slithered closer, and stopped less than four meters away. Its gaze held your own, and you wondered if there were large pointy teeth in it’s massive maw. You had not realized you were holding your breath until you jumped back, for the wampus suddenly sprang forward, using four of it’s massive paws to bat the serpent. The snake let out a low hiss and retreated, the wampus’ attention on you once more._

_The beast lowered its head and prowled in your direction. You were suddenly fearful it might pounce, but it stopped short. The seconds that passed felt like hours. The creature chuffed as if debating something, then opened its mouth and let out a roar so loud, you clamped your hands over your ears. The roar crashed and echoed through the room like thunder. You thought the roar continued until you saw the wampus’ jaw was shut. There were cheers, clapping and stomping from the school overhead. You looked at Professor Hornwood, who wore a smug grin. She indicated to a set of stairs that you assumed led to the rafters above. As you ascended, you could not help the smile that spread across your face. You had been chosen for Wampus house._

Professor McGonagall indicated for you to sit, and you did so on the round stool at the front of the classroom. You thought this sorting ceremony was lackluster compared to what you experienced at your past school. But you wanted to please and change. You wanted to adjust to Hogwarts lifestyle as quickly as possible. Walking forward, Professor McGonagall placed the hat upon your head. 

“Aha!” You jumped as the hat spoke, “My first student of the year.”

You stayed quiet, heart thundering in your chest, “Hmmm, I sense great bravery and loyalty, and a lineage to Gryffindor. You have the wits of a Ravenclaw, but no. There is a sense of procrastination as well. However, what is this? A change of your heart seems to have also caused a change in you.” 

Your breath hitched in your throat, feeling the pain of your parents death, the hat stripped you bare before it, “Where to put you…” It mused. “There is also something else, another lineage for those of the purest-blood. Yes, I see. There can only be one place for you, better be SLYTHERIN!” 

The hat was pulled from your head before you had time to process. Hopping off your stool, you walked back with Professor McGonagall to the entrance hall. You got the feeling she was a no-nonsense sort of woman, and she did not offer you any words after your sorting was completed. 

A group of timid-looking students--first years, you assumed--stood gathered before the door Professor McGonagall told you was the entrance to the Great Hall. If you had been caught in a rainstorm earlier, the first years looked to have survived a hurricane. Not wanting to stick around, you entered the hall, scanning the four tables for Gwen and Toby. 

Spotting students with Slytherin robes on the far left side of the hall, you walked in their direction, “(Y/N)! Over here!” Toby had stood on the seat of her chair, arm raised. Sitting to her right was Gwen. 

“So you got sorted into Slytherin?” Gwen inquired, sounding impressed. 

“How’d you know?” You asked, taking the open seat across from them. 

“Your robes.” Gwen indicated to your chest. You looked down to discover your tie had magically changed to match theirs, the insignia of Slytherin had appeared on the left side of your outfit. 

“New this year, huh?” Said a boy to your right. Though he was sitting, you could tell he was tall. He had dark skin and high cheek-bones. “I’m Blaise Zabini.”

He held his hand out, and you took it into your own, “(F/N) (L/N).”

“No, Blaise, she’s not interested in dating you.” Said Gwen, to which Blaise shot her a glare, but a playful smile tugged on his lips. 

“I was just being polite, Gwendolyn. Am I not allowed to introduce myself?”

Gwen’s eyes narrowed, she opened her mouth to retort, but the doors to the entrance of the Great Hall swung open and hushed silence spread over the students. Professor McGonagall led frightened looking first years to the front of the hall, followed by the large man from the train platform. 

“Who’s he?” You whispered to Blaise. 

Blaise did not have to ask who you meant, “That’s Hagrid, he’s the Care of Magical Creatures professor.” 

You could hear a bit of humor in Blaise’ voice, as if it were a joke of a job, “Wow,” you breathed. Back home, Creature Care was a popular class due Newt Scamander’s adventures in New York. 

After watching the sorting ceremony, you concluded being sorted in private was the right choice. You could only imagine how much more your nerves would have been on edge had you worn that hat in front of the entire school. The headmaster--whose face you recognized even from America--said a few words before a large spread of food appeared on all four tables. You did not realize how hungry you were. Your mouth watered, scooping mashed potatoes onto your golden plate. 

Cutting into your roasted chicken, you noticed the platinum blonde boy you crashed into in the entryway sat on the opposite side of the table about five students down from Toby. To his left and right were two large boys, flanking him like gargoyles. As if he sensed your presence, his silver eyes shot to yours. You did not know why, but another blush colored your face and you quickly looked down to your chicken. 

“So Professor Snape is the head of our house, he’s the one sitting on the end there.” Gwen pointed out a thin man with sallow skin at the head table. He had a hooked nose, black hair that framed his face and black eyes that gave him a cold appearance. 

“He looks severe, but he’s really not that bad.” Said Toby quietly. “He tends to favour our lot, doesn’t he? And he teaches Potions.” 

Excitement blossomed across the Great Hall as you got up to leave the table. Professor Dumbledore had announced to the school a Triwizard Tournament was to take place at Hogwarts and two other schools would be attending. You felt somewhat relieved at the news, knowing you would not be the only student that was new. 

You walked with Gwen and Toby, heading for what you assumed to be the dungeons of the castle. “Our house is in the basement.” Toby explained, pushing her short dark-auburn hair behind an ear, “You’ll need a password to enter. Oh, and no one is allowed to know where it’s located except for Slytherins. And teachers, of course.” 

“So it’s true. You really aren’t a first year, then?” a statement floated from behind. You turned to see the blonde boy again, following you. 

“Be nice, Draco,” said Gwen cooly, “(Y/N)’s just getting her bearings.”

“I reckon she also needs to get her balance.” Said Draco. 

You scowled at him and said, “So you’re in Slytherin too?”

“What was your first clue?” said Draco. 

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. How could someone be so _rude_? So far everyone at Hogwarts was welcoming with the exception of one boy. And he was walking with you. You bit back a retort and decided to play nice, “And what year are you in?” 

“Fourth, same as you. At least that’s what Blaise says.” 

“Yeah,” you said, curious that the two had talked about you. 

“The password is _Basilisk_. Learned it from a fifth year,” said Toby quietly as you approached a large wooden door. There was nothing particularly extravagant about it besides the fact it was lacquered in a deep brown color. A small _S_ was carved into the wood next to a bronze doorknob. 

“ _Basilisk_ ,” repeated Gwen, and the door swung open on it’s own. You walked down an entryway lined with Slytherin tapestries and blazing torches. Occasionally you passed a window that reflected green simmering light onto the floor. 

Two large emerald curtains were loosely pulled back by golden ties, separating the Slytherin Common Room from the entryway. Walking down a set of sleek black stairs with gold embellishments, you took in the site before you. 

For the most part, the common room was covered in deep wood. Large squashy black leather chairs and couches sat in front of a fireplace on either end of the room. All of the furniture was sleek-black with small gold accents that matched the stairs. On the right side of the common room, the walls were lined with books, giving off the feel of a lavish library. To the left--adjacent to the entryway--a spiral staircase led upwards to a lofted space. You could hear voices drifting down from above, and though you could not see everything, you noted the walls in the loft were also lined with books. 

What really impressed you about the Slytherin common room was the enormous crystal clear window that lined the entire far side of the wall. Through the glass, schools of blue and pink neon fish swam, casting shadows across the floor. The window connected to a cathedral-style ceiling, giving you the impression the common room was submerged deep below the lake’s surface. Waves of shimmering green light danced across the floors and walls, brightening up the dark room. The effect reminded you of an aurora borealis. Overall, the entire place felt expensive but comfortable. 

Draco caught your eye, already heading down a set of stone spiral stairs, deeper into the castle's depths, “Spit in his bread pudding, did you?” asked Gwen. 

You could not help but feel slightly guilty. You _had_ after all, threw your entire weight into his chest and stomped on his foot. Shrugging at her, the three of you headed to another set of spiral stairs to the girls dorm, “Is he always like that?” you asked. 

“Not always,” said Toby from behind, “Though the Malfoys are quite rich. I expect his family gives loads of money to the school. Might account for his snooty attitude.”

Gwen nodded, “In our second year his father bought our entire quidditch team Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones, didn’t he?”

“The _whole_ team?” you spouted. That would have cost an absolute fortune. 

“I know,” said Toby, “He is really quite popular.”

“And known for being a player,” interjected Gwen, “Now, enough about Draco. Fourth year dorms better be as good as last…”

But she did not have to finish her sentence. If last year's dorm was better than this, they must have been absolutely lavish. The room was quite large, different hues of green lined the carpet and walls. Several windows covered the right side, giving off a different view under the lake. On the left sat a fireplace--smaller than the two in the common room--with a matching squashy leather couch and coffee table. 

Two alcoves branched off on the far end of the room, three large four-poster beds with a nightstand sat in each. You approached the alcove on the left and saw your trunk and bags were already placed at the end of a bed. Gwen and Toby’s belongings were on the other two. 

“Who do those three belong to?” you indicated to the luggage and beds on the other side. 

“Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode and Daphne Greengrass.” said Toby. 

“Let's hope Pug-faced Pansy and her confidantes stay out late, shall we?” said Gwen.

“Don’t like them much, do you?” you asked. Toby gave you a knowing look. 

You brushed your teeth and changed into your pajamas. Once you sat down on the bed, Grimm lightly landed on your lap and gave you a tiny ‘mew’. He looked at you with bright green eyes. You couldn’t help but think they matched Gwen’s. “He likes you, you know,” said Gwen, making her way under her blankets. 

Toby hopped in the middle bed, her light frame hunched over an open book, after several minutes of reading she turned her butterscotch eyes to you, “(Y/N).” she spoke gently, “Are you happy with your sorting? I know you were expecting Gryffindor.”

You scratched Grimm behind his ear, “At first I wasn’t sure…” you said, thoughtfully. “I truly was expecting Gryffindor, and to be honest I was surprised with the outcome. But now that I’m here, I think this _is_ where I belong.”

“When I first came to Hogwarts, I thought for sure I would be placed in Ravenclaw,” said Gwen, stifling a yawn, “The hat had a hard time deciding. When I got placed in Slytherin, I was confused. Thought only those with the purest-blood settled here.” 

“Purest-blood,” you echoed, repeating the same words the sorting hat had said to you. 

“Oftentimes, students who come from pure-blood families are sorted into Slytherin. I’m--I guess what you would call--a mutt. Mix of both magical and non-magical families, unlike Toby.” said Gwen. 

Toby snorted, “You’re pure-blood?” you asked her. 

She flippantly waved her hand at you, “Yeah, yeah. But it means nothing. Gwen is a more brilliant witch than I could ever be.”

“Because I _study_.” said Gwen contentiously. 

“The hat did fancy me for Hufflepuff.” said Toby, ignoring Gwen’s remark. “What about you, (Y/N)? Do you come from a pure-blood family back in the states?”

“Blood status isn’t really talked about over there.” you said, “I honestly don’t know, though. My parents never told me,” _and now they never will_ , you thought. 

A light snore came from Gwen's bed, and Toby raised an eyebrow at you, “Guess we should get some sleep then, shall we?” she said. 

Grimm settled in at the end of your bed as you laid on your side. Secretly you were relieved both Toby and Gwen had been considered for other houses as well. You could not help but feel it was slightly ironic that each of you had almost been placed in three seperate houses, but were brought together by Slytherin. Though you have only known them for a day, you were beginning to feel they could fill the void your parents left behind. 


	3. Ferrets and Owls

That morning you sat at the head of the Slytherin table, scrambled eggs, bacon and toast on your plate. While the storm from yesterday had passed, the ceiling of the Great Hall was an abysmal grey. Gwen had just finished telling you the Slytherin Common Room was carved from stone deep below the lake located outside of the castle when you were silently handed your class schedule by Professor Snape. You looked at him, wondering if your new head of house was going to greet his newest fourth-year student, but he had already turned, slowly making his way down the Slytherin table to hand out the rest of the schedules. 

“Can I see yours?” you asked Toby. She handed you the parchment and you compared it with your own, “All the same classes,” you said, surprised, “What about you?” you asked Gwen. 

“Got Arithmancy and Ancient Runes instead of Care of Magical Creatures and Divination,” she said and you noted it was without looking at your own schedule. You guessed it was because she already knew what classes Toby would be taking this year. 

“Oh,” you said, slightly crestfallen. 

She smiled as if knowing you anticipated the three of you would be in every class together, “I’ll be in all others, though. Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, History of Magic, DADA, Astronomy and Herbology are all required,” said Gwen, ticking the classes off her fingers. 

Though it was quite the list, you realized she missed a class, “Creature Care isn’t required?” you asked, surprised. 

Gwen laughed, tucking a ringlet of blonde hair behind her ear, “Merlin, no! Care of Magical Creatures is somewhat of a joke,” then--as if she realized both you and Toby had elected to take the class--amended quickly, “but still an integral part to the school.”

“Smooth,” said Toby, gingerly taking her schedule back from you. 

Just then, you heard a rustling sound from overhead and looked up to see hundreds of owls swooping into the Great Hall, all carrying parcels and letters. You had not expected mail, but as you stared up, you spied Figment’s white belly as he swept toward you, landing inches from your plate. He hooted softly in greeting, and in his talons was a slender parcel wrapped in beige paper with a letter attached. 

You opened the letter first, 

_(F/N),_

_I did a bit of shopping after dropping you off at the train station. I thought this might come in handy on your first day of classes. It reminded me of your owl._

_I’d love to hear all about your first day at Hogwarts, write back when you can._

_Your Uncle Teddy sends his best wishes._

_Love,_

_Aunt Leenia_

Lifting the lid from the box, a beautiful quill with a black ink well sat in padded paper. The quill was mostly white with three faded dark stripes. The left side of the feather was splashed with beige speckles and white whorls were delicately painted on the right. A second white feather lined the back of the quill, the two bound together with silver string and tip. You admired the quill in one hand and absentmindedly picked up a piece of scrambled egg in the other, holding it out to Figment. He nibbled on the yellow food happily, and dipped his beak in your orange juice. 

“That’s pretty,” commented Gwen over her Daily Prophet. To your right, Toby's small tawny screech owl with luminous eyes--Sully--landed proudly. He puffed out his little chest and obediently lifted his right leg, which had a scroll of yellow parchment attached. Sully waited patiently for her to untie the bow, and once done, he looked as smugly as a little owl could at Figment, whose face was now splashed with orange juice from dipping his beak too far into the gold goblet. Toby opened her letter and told you it was from her parents. Suddenly, a brown eagle-owl swooped low, causing Figment to hoot with indignation and Sully to flail his wings as orange juice spilled across the table. 

“Watch it!” you shouted at the owl, pulling your parcel out of the way of the stream. 

The eagle-owl landed directly in front of Draco with a large parcel in talon. An eruption of sniggering came from him and Blaise as they looked in your direction. A girl with a hard face and long brown hair belatedly joined in. 

“Pug-faced Pansy‘s at it again,” said Gwen, quietly “ _Tergeo_ ,” she flicked her wand and the juice siphoned itself back into the goblet. Pansy Parkinson--you assumed--fellow fourth year Slytherin. 

“Don’t call her that, Gwen. You know the kind of trouble you got in last time for saying it,” said Toby urgently with wide butterscotch eyes. 

You could not help but silently agree with Gwen. Pansy Parkinson did remind you somewhat of the small hard-faced dog. Stowing your quill back in it’s box, you placed it in your brown, leather bag. After Figment and Sully nibbled on Toby's buttered toast, they took flight together, exiting in an overhead window, making their way to the Owlery. Once you had finished eating breakfast, you followed the rest of your fellow Slytherins to History of Magic, sitting in an empty seat next to Toby. To your right, Draco sat beside you. 

“Owl sure did a number on my orange juice this morning,” you accused, turning to face him. 

You were surprised to find him wearing a grin, silver eyes alight with humor, “Sorry ‘bout that. Mum’s parcel was rather heavy.” 

It was the first time you had actually seen him without a scowl or smirk on his face, and the flutter in your chest told you that you did not want him to lose it, “Must’ve been some package, huh?”

A girl cleared her throat behind you and you turned around to see Pansy sitting with two other Slytherin girls you had yet to meet. “Pansy, Millicent, Daphne, this is (F/N)(L/N).” Draco introduced you. You got the distinct feeling Pansy did not want you having a private conversation. Millicent was a large set girl with dirty blonde hair, someone who you knew you did not want to cross physically. Daphne’s face was sweet, but pinched, dark brown hair and eyes with long lashes. Her hair was braided back perfectly, a green bow atop the right side of her head. 

You nodded to them, “and this is Crabbe and Goyle,” he indicated to the two large boys sitting to his right. Their stature made you wonder if Millicent was related to them. 

“That just leaves Theodore Nott whom you have yet to meet.” said Toby quietly. 

“Speak of the Devil,” said Blaise proudly as a tall handsome boy with dirty-blonde curly hair entered the classroom. He was walking with several Ravenclaw girls, his cobalt blue eyes had a mischievous look as he flashed a bright, award winning smile at them. They giggled and headed for their seats. Theodore made his way to the desks behind the first row of Slytherins, and sat next to Blaise Zibini. 

You were surprised to learn your History of Magic professor was a ghost called Professor Binns. Toby whispered he had just one day left his body, and floated to the classroom to teach, not realizing he had died in his sleep. You found yourself debating if that were true instead of listening to him drone on about the Great Goblin War. By the time class had ended, you knew you were going to have to ask Gwen to see her notes. 

After a short break, you and Toby made your way out of the castle, down to Hagrid’s hut for Care of Magical Creatures. The Gryffindors were already there, waiting for the rest of the Slytherins to arrive. The large black-bearded man--Hagrid--was holding an enormous black boarhound by it’s collar. The dog twisted and barked, trying to investigate the open crates at Hagrids feet. 

“Blast-Ended Skrewts!” He said. 

As you got closer, your heart sank as you heard the faint rattling of small Blast-Ended Skrewts. Strange, slimy, shelless, half-lobster half-scorpion creatures were crawling around aimlessly in the crates. It was like no magical beast you had ever seen back at Ilvermorny. They sent shivers down your spine as their many legs crept in different directions, crawling over one another. 

“On’y jus’ hatched,” said Hagrid proudly, “so yeh’ll be able ter raise ‘em yourselves! Thought we’d make a bit of a project of it!”

“And why would we _want_ to raise them?” said a cold voice. 

You turned to see Draco and the other Slytherins had joined the class. You frowned, realizing the words had come from Draco. How could someone be so openly rude to a professor? 

“I mean, what do they _do?_ What is the _point_ of them?” asked Draco. 

Hagrid opened his mouth, obviously thinking hard, “Tha’s next lesson, Malfoy. Yer jus’ feedin’ ‘em today. Now, Yeh’ll wan’ ter try ‘em on…”

“How can you be so openly rude to a professor?” you asked Draco, echoing your thoughts out loud. 

Draco, at first, looked taken aback by your brazen words, but recovered quickly and said, “That giant oaf isn’t a professor. Listen (L/N), you’re new here, so you don’t know, but Dumbledore gave him that job out of pity.” 

“It’s true, (F/N),” said Toby sheepishly, “Hagrid really isn’t a professor--”

“I don’t care,” you spoke to Draco defiantly, “It gives you no right to act that way to anyone.” Glaring at him, you stomped toward the Gryffindors, Toby following closely behind. 

You and Toby spent the rest of the class trying to figure out what Blast-Ended Skrewts ate, but in that process all you learned was that they stung, burned and sucked blood. Nursing your injured hand on your way back to the castle you said, “That was nothing like Creature Care back at Ilvermorny.”

“What do you mean?” asked Toby. 

“I mean at Ilvermorny, Creature Care is an extremely informative class. Here it seems almost like… like a joke.” you felt guilty repeating the words Gwen had called Care of Magical Creatures at breakfast. 

“Well…” said Toby, “That’s why people here take it. So we don’t have to study more, do we?”

You sighed. Entering the Great Hall, you and Toby sat for lunch, and were shortly joined by Gwen. Gwen spoke highly of the Arithmancy class she just came from, and you asked to borrow her notes from History of Magic. 

“That’s fine,” she said, “Toby’s always copying my work.”

Toby scrunched her nose, wrinkling the freckles on her face, “That’s because it’s bloody impossible to sit through those lectures.” she said. 

The bell rang to signal the start of afternoon classes. You and Toby made your way to the North Tower, at the top of a spiraling staircase, up a silver stepladder and through a trapdoor that led into the Divination classroom. You were out of breath and the scent of patchouli hit your nose. The two of you took your seats on squashy pink pillows next to some Gryffindors. 

After a long lecture, you spent the remainder of class filling out a circular chart, deciphering the positions of planets at the moment of their birth. Afterwards you were given homework on the planetary movements in the coming month and how it would affect you. 

“Damn,” you whispered on your way down the spiral stairs, “That Trelawney is a piece of work.”

“I quite like her,” said Toby, “Though I suspect that assignment will take all weekend.”

As you approached the mass of students waiting to enter the Great Hall, you heard shouting. Toby gave you a questioning look, the two of you too short to see over the heads of the Hufflepuff's in front of you. Once they realized someone in the front was putting on a show, they ceased their chattering, and you heard the unmistakable voice of Draco, reading an excerpt from The Daily Prophet “...and there’s a picture, Weasley!” he shouted, “A picture of your parents outside their house--if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn’t she?”

A few heated words were exchanged and students ducked at a loud BANG! You were roughly shoved to the side, “OH NO YOU DON’T, LADDIE!” Mad Eye Moody had been the one to push past you. Another loud BANG! discharged and in the air hung a sleek-white ferret. You winced as you heard it collide to the ground like a fallen star, imagining it breaking bones. 

Several more shouts occurred, and Moody had raised the ferret once more ten feet into the air, then smacked it on the castle’s hard stone floor again. The students around you were silent as Moody repeatedly bounced the ferret, it’s legs and tail flailing helplessly.

“Professor Moody!” said a shocked voice. It was Professor McGonagall, carrying a stack of books. She, too, brushed past you and Toby. Though you were too far back to see or hear, there was a distinguishable shriek, “ _Is that a student_?”

“It’s Draco... that ferret,” whispered Toby. 

“What?” you said, too shocked to think it funny. Then you thought of the way the ferret had smacked against the floor several times. Draco was sure to have been injured. In a sense, you had secretly thought he deserved it, with the way he was talking about that other student's mother. Had he said Weasley? Wasn’t that your aunt and uncle's neighbor? 

But on the other hand, you were quite positive Draco had been injured. Something that small dropping with force from ten feet in the air repeatedly was sure to give him some broken ribs. You were hesitant to think anyone deserved that kind of punishment for biting words. 

The entryway began to clear as students filed into the Great Hall. Draco, Moody and Professor McGonnagall were nowhere in sight. At the Slytherin table, you were surprised to find Gwen was consoling a weeping Pansy. You took a seat next to Crabbe who said haughtily, “That Moody’s got ‘nother thing coming for him, he does.”

“Oh really, Crabbe? And what are you gonna do?” asked Theodore, a smile touching the corner of his lips. 

“If you ask me, _Draco_ had it coming. Did you hear what he said?” Gwen whispered to you, her hand still rubbing Pansy’s back in soothing circles. 

“Bits of it,” you whispered back, “Toby and I were pretty far behind.” 

“He’s always on that Potter and his lot. I can’t help but feel slightly responsible. I’m the one that gave Draco my Daily Prophet after History of Magic.” replied Gwen. 

“He’s just awful! Someone’s got to do something about him. _My poor Draco_.” shrieked Pansy. By _him_ , you knew she meant Moody. Not wanting to stick around listening to Pansy’s sobs that were now drawing attention from the Ravenclaw table, you quickly ate your beef casserole. 

After dinner, you needed alone time. You asked Gwen where the Owlery was and headed off in the direction to the West Tower. You were not exactly sure on it’s location, but you concluded that it was indeed on the west side of the castle. After climbing several flights of moving staircases, you found yourself a nook in a dead-end hallway. The place was quite private. Sitting on the stone bench next to a large window, you looked outside thoughtfully before pulling out your new quill and a piece of blank parchment. 

_Aunt Leenia and Uncle Teddy,_

You wrote, 

_Thank you for the package. I love the quill. You are right, it does remind me of Figment._

_I made some friends on the train and was placed in Slytherin with them. I was surprised I wasn’t put in Gryffindor, but I think this is the house I belong to._

_Last night the entire school found out there is going to be a Triwizard Tournament. Two other schools will be joining us shortly, and I’ll no longer be the newest witch. Don’t worry, I’m too young to enter._

_I just finished my first day of classes, Care of Magical Creatures is different than I expected. Everything went well and homework is already piling up._

_Miss you both, can’t wait to see you again._

_Love,_

_(Y/N)_

After rereading the letter, you glanced at the silver owl charm on your right wrist. You wondered where at Hogwarts your parents had their first date, and where was it your father gave the little owl to your mother? You made a mental note to ask Aunt Leenia. 

The sun was beginning to set, coloring the sky with hues of pinks and oranges. Tips of the trees were yellow where rays of light touched, and a bright glisten covered the grass of the castle's grounds. You stood from your bench and--after rubbing the cramp in your backside--picked up your leather bag to walk to the Owlery. 

The west tower was not far from where you wrote your letter. Avoiding owl droppings splattered on the ground, you spotted Figment in the rafters high above and coerced him down with his favorite snack: voles. “There you are, my little barn owl.” He clicked his beak as you stroked the feathers that stuck out between his dark eyes. He closed them slightly, fluffing up his body like a pygmy puff and shook his head. 

A loud screech sounded to your right, and a russet brown eagle-owl with eyes as orange as pumpkins stared at you expectantly. “Excuse you,” you said and tossed him a vole from your hand. After swallowing the creature whole, he hopped one perch closer, keeping an eye on Figment’s treats. “Are you trying to nick Figment’s food?” you inquired. 

“Talking to birds, are we?” said a voice from behind. Spotting him, the eagle-owl immediately flew to Draco, landing gently on his outstretched arm. You had forgotten how much taller he was than you. His platinum blonde hair was slightly unkempt, bits of it disheveled on the sides and top of his head, no longer held down by hair gel. 

“I think you’d better teach that bird some manners,” you said, entirely surprised to see him in working--human--condition. Not a scratch in sight. And of course it was _his_ owl with the bad manners. 

You could not decide if you were angry at him, with the way he spoke to Hagrid and those students in the hall. All of it was entirely uncalled for, but on the other hand, you barely knew him. The two of you were silent. Feeding the last vole to Figment, you attached the letter to his leg. Draco’s eagle-owl swooped past you, out the window, a scroll tied to its foot. Lifting your arm, Figment followed and you watched them fly off together, their silhouettes visible against the pink and orange sky. You watched them fly until their bodies were no larger than specks against the glow. 

“It wasn’t right, you know,” you spoke quietly, your eyes still on the sky. 

“What?” you jolted, Draco’s voice much closer than you expected. You turned to find him less than a meter away. He too had been staring at the sunset. 

“What that professor did,” you said, “In the hall…”

His face turned slightly pink, a scowl forming, silver eyes becoming hard, “I expect the school will be talking about it for weeks. What about you? Get a good laugh, did you?”

“No.” you said callously, “In fact, I was concerned you might be hurt,” anger flared in you as you took a step forward. You could not help but notice how your eye-line barely reached his chest, “Your mates are worried, you know.” and before you lost your nerve, you lifted your hand and gave him a good hard poke in the ribs. 

A grunt of pain left Draco and he immediately doubled over, hands on knees he breathed heavily.

“Sorry! _Sorry_!” you dashed forward, placing your hand on his back, but he jerked away, slowly straightening to throw you a murderous look.

“ _Fuck_ , (Y/N)!” he bit out, acidly. He brought his hand to his ribs, and--wincing slightly--gingerly massaged them, “Much stronger than you look.” 

It was as you suspected. Draco had been hurt after being smacked against the stone floor, “You should go to the hospital wing.”

“Already did, didn’t I? Madam Pomfrey gave me that disgusting potion... mends broken bones,” Seeing the concern on your face he added, “Ribs are fixed, just a bit of bruising that’ll take a few days to heal.”

“Sorry,” you repeated. 

“It’s fine,” said Draco flatly, giving you a pointed stare. He looked as if he were going to say more, but thought better of it. He shuffled his bag onto his shoulder and left the Owlery. 

You thought about following, but remembered you were supposed to meet Gwen and Toby in the library. Toby wanted a head start on your Divination homework. Sighing, you grabbed your bag and--after asking several Gryffindors for directions--found the library off a corridor on the first floor. 

Gwen and Toby were sitting at a table tucked away in a far corner. Gwen was reading her Arithmancy notes, and Toby had her _Unfogging the Future_ book open. You took a seat, pulling out your planet chart, “Find the Owlery alright?” asked Gwen.

“Yeah, sent a letter to my…” you were about to say parents, but let the sentence trail off. You did not want anyone at Hogwarts to know about your parents. Your agony was still fresh, and no one knew you lived with your aunt and uncle. By keeping quiet, the pain did not seem to linger as much. You were able to more effectively shove thoughts and ideas of sadness that burned in your body out of your mind. You had left that old life back in America. 

You and Toby worked on deciphering the future based on planet alignment, and when you were too strained to continue, you began copying Gwen’s History of Magic notes. “This is impossible,” said Toby, still laboring over her predictions. 

“Maybe you need a better book?” you suggested, “Bet I can find one.”

You got up from your seat to ask the vulture-like librarian at the front desk. She pointed you down a hallway lined with texts and novels. A section of the library you had not seen. After several turns you took an old ladder to another floor and browsed various Xylomancy books when you heard a giggle coming from behind a velvet indigo tapestry embroidered in silver floss. 

Ignoring it you found one that looked promising. Flipping the text open, the book was quite tattered and old, with pages so yellow they looked almost brown. Another giggle escaped from behind the tapestry and a soft groan followed. Curious, you raised your eyebrows, (e/c) eyes flicking to the source of noise. 

You stepped toward the tapestry and heard some shuffling. Lifting the velvet to one side, bags were strewn on the floor, and a set of robes heaped at your feet. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dark space before you realized what you were seeing. 

It was Draco Malfoy, his unmistakable platinum blonde hair absolutely devilish atop his head. He was wearing a white button-up shirt, the top half undone, revealing the upper part of his chest. His lithe frame was bent over a Ravenclaw girl, placing several open mouthed kisses on her face. She had both her hands on his black pants, one fumbling to undo the top button the other stroking his-- 

Without meaning to, a small noise formed at the back of your throat turning into something between a squeak and gasp of surprise. Draco’s silver eyes found you, hazy and lustful he took a staggered breath and pinned the Ravenclaw girl against the wall with large palms, eyes still meeting your own. Your cheeks colored pink, thoroughly embarrassed, you dropped the tapestry and hastily made your way down the ladder, Xylomancy book in hand. 

Quickly walking back to the table, you belatedly thought you should have given yourself time to compose your features. Your hand was clamped over your mouth, (e/c) eyes wide with shock and heated cheeks. 

“(Y/N), what happened?” it was Gwen. Her bright green eyes looked at you with concern. She closed her Arithmancy notes and gave you her undivided attention. Toby looked up from her homework. 

_Damn_. You did not want to tell Gwen and Toby what you just witnessed, but you had little choice now that they had seen your face. 

“I just saw Draco and… and some other girl…” you trailed off but you did not have to finish your sentence. The look you gave them said it all. 

Gwen laughed, “Get a good view, did you, (Y/N)? Draco make room for you to join in?”

“ _Gwen_!” you blanched. 

“ _Ew_!” said Toby, wrinkling her nose, “Can we _please leave,_ I don’t want to be in the same room while they get in a quick shag.”

And the three of you broke into a fit of giggles, though you were certain yours were more hysterical, “OUT!” a voice squawked from behind. It was Madame Pince, the vulture-like librarian. She brandished her wand up high, “Out of the library!”

And before you could respond, she had enchanted your books and bags to roughly nudge the three of you from your seats. You quickly scrambled to the exit as your belongings chased you from the library, “Ugly old hag,” muttered Gwen as she gathered her papers strewn on the floor in the hall. 

That evening you sat cross-legged on the end of Gwen’s four-poster bed facing Gwen and Toby. Grimm laid on his back between the three of you, his green eyes begging for his tummy to be scratched. It was nearly midnight, and all lights were out except for a faint glow coming from the small fireplace across the room. The three other Slytherin girls were already asleep in the second alcove. 

You had spent the evening talking quietly, learning more about your new friends. Gwen was an only child who’s lineage made her three-fourth’s witch and one-fourth muggle (she scoffed when you had said _no-maj_ ). Toby had a sixth-year brother in Slytherin who outshined her in everything. You could not help but feel pity when she told you her parents would not let her do anything because she was the youngest witch of her immediate family. 

“So,” whispered Gwen, watching Toby absentmindedly stroke Grimm’s stomach, “What exactly did you see in the library with Draco?”

You groaned, “You’re really going to make me recount that, are you? It was Draco making out with a Ravenclaw girl.”

“Making out?” asked Toby. 

“Snogging,” corrected Gwen. 

“Thought everyone here would only be interested in those in their own house,” you said.

“ _Merlin_ , no. Draco, Blaise and Theo will take girls from all houses. They’re players, that lot. But Hufflepuffs will date Ravenclaws and Ravenclaws… well Ravenclaws have a thirst for knowledge, but also thirst for passion…” said Gwen with a promiscuous look on her face. 

“The only thing you might not see is Slytherin with Gryffind--AURGH!” howled Toby, for Grimm had just captured her vulnerable arm in all four of his claws, and was now attempting to bite her with polished fangs. 

“Will you shut it!” came the shrill voice of Pansy Parkinson from the other alcove. Toby managed to disentangle the sleeve of her pajamas out of Grimm’s grasp and scrambled off the bed. Grimm looked at her contently, purring loudly, tail whipping slowly back-and-forth. 

There was a pause, and then the three of you began stifling your snickers. You found yourself holding back a yawn and decided you should get some sleep. Lying in bed, your mind wandered over Draco Malfoy. You did not know why, but a pang of jealousy hit your gut at the thought of that Ravenclaw girl receiving attention from him. Had you followed him out of the Owlery, would it have been _you_ Draco had corralled against the wall in the library? His lithe frame towering over your petite body as he bent down slowly, hot lips caressing the side of your neck. Even from sleep, the thought made you blush. 


	4. Meow

The next morning you sat alone at the Slytherin table, staring blankly at your bowl of porridge and yawned, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. You really needed to start going to bed at a more reasonable hour. Someone sat beside you, and though uncomfortably close, you were too drained to care. 

Reaching for another spoonful of porridge, he cleared his throat and your face grew hot as you glanced to your right, Draco looked at you expectantly. You had told yourself last night you were not going to mention what had happened in the library and tried your hardest to effectively shove it from your mind. But suddenly, with Draco right beside you, you found yourself thinking of the Ravenclaw girl holding _that_ part of Draco in her palm through his trousers...

“What?” you asked, a little harsher than you intended. _Merlin_ , you were thankful he could not see what was going through your mind. 

When there was no reply, you turned your torso to get a better view of him. He sat with ease, legs apart, body angled toward your own, gossamer hair styled back to its former glory. “‘Morning.” he said, lips quirked upward, he looked absolutely _wolfish_ , staring at you with those expectant silver eyes. 

“Goodmorning,” you said, albeit suspiciously. And because you did not know what else to say, you opted for politeness, “How’re you?”

He flashed you a mischievous smile that made your insides flutter, “Just going to ignore the Snorkack in the room, then?” he said. 

In your mind's eye, you saw the Ravenclaw girl effectively pushed against the wall, Draco’s open mouth planting two kisses on her forehead before moving to her lips. You felt your cheeks turn pink as you looked up at Draco who was still looking at you expectantly, “To be honest, I was going to pretend like I didn’t see you.”

“Oh,” he said, eyebrows raised in surprise, “We can play it that way then, (Y/N).”

“Though I am curious,” you said boldly, and he quirked his head to the side, “I thought for sure you’d be too incapacitated for a snogging session after I thoroughly impaired you in the Owlery.”

“Fancying about my snogging sessions, are you?” he quipped, a smirk still playing on his face. 

“No!” you said quickly, (e/c) eye’s wide, then narrowed. 

“And you didn’t _incapacitate_ me, (Y/N). I’m perfectly fine,” said Draco, rolling his eyes. 

“Could’ve fooled me,” you mumbled, remembering the way he had doubled over after you poked him in the ribs, “Feeling better, then?”

“Loads,” he replied, though you got the distinct feeling he did not want to talk about it. His libido was certainly in check, you thought. Just then Pansy Parkinson sidled up to Draco on his other side, she gave him a bashful smile and he looked down at her with a satisfied look. You frowned, scooping another spoonful of porridge into your mouth. The bell rang and you gathered your bag, reluctantly walking with Draco and Pansy to the greenhouse for Herbology. 

After lunch you had Potions in the dungeons with Gryffindor. Black desks large enough for two students were pushed together to form tables of four. You sat across from Gwen and Toby, chair next to you empty. You spied Draco walking in with Theo. Seeing you he roamed in your direction. 

Suddenly, a skittish looking round-faced boy with dark hair took the seat next to you, “Mind if I sit here?” he asked. Your eyes still on Draco, he threw the boy a near-murderous look and took the seat behind you next to Theo, table paired with Crabbe and Goyle. 

“Sure,” you said, turning to face him.   
  
“Neville Longbottom,” he introduced himself. 

“(F/N)(L/N),” you replied.

“Have a good summer, did you, Neville?” asked Toby. 

“Yes, Gran and I went to Egypt on holiday,” said Neville. 

Toby opened her mouth to say more, but Professor Snape walked into the classroom, his long robes flowing behind making him look positively bat-like. An immediate silence fell over the class, “Last year,” he spoke slowly yet deliberately, and walked to the front of the room, “you studied undetectable poisons which are difficult to recognize. This year, you will be building off of that knowledge and learning about poison antidotes…”

Your heart sank, you were already terrible at Potions, and the course you were on at your old school was completely different than Hogwart’s Potions curriculum. “Now, some of you will benefit from today’s lesson,” he looked pointedly at Neville who shrank in his chair, “We will be making the Wit-Sharpening potion. This will also begin your preparations for next year's Ordinary Wizarding Level examination. Who can tell the effects the Wit-Sharpening potion has on it’s drinker?”

A hand immediately shot up from across the room. A bushy-haired Gryffindor girl sat with three other boys, clearly hanging on to Professor Snape’s every word. He ignored the girl and scanned the room for other volunteers. Gwen tentatively raised her own, and he nodded in her direction, “The Wit-Sharpening potion allows the drinker to think more clearly,” said Gwen. “It improves intellect, which helps in casting spells and acts as an antidote to the Confundus charm.” 

Raising your eyebrows in surprise, you knew Gwen was clever, but her answer was near-textbook worthy. “Ten points to Slytherin,” said Professor Snape, “As Miss Ashlow provided, the potion itself…” 

Much like History of Magic, you found concentrating on Professor Snape's lecture to be near-impossible. It was not that he droned on, like Professor Bins, but you simply did not understand the chemical reactions the ingredients had to one another. After several minutes of panic flitting through your mind, you could not focus on any of the words coming out of Snape's mouth. Suddenly there was a shuffling of books, and students moved to the cupboards at the back of the classroom to gather their ingredients. You took this as your signal to begin the assignment, pulling out _Magical Drafts and Potions_ , you turned the book to the page written on the chalkboard. 

You and Neville were the last to approach the back of the classroom. You collected your ingredients and set your cauldron in front of you, muttering a quick spell to ignite a small fire beneath it. Gwen already had her ginger root cut, and was stirring it into her mixture, which had turned the blue base to lime green. You followed her example adding the base ingredient, and then cut off two pieces of ginger root and combined them in your cauldron. 

“(Y/N), you should probably weigh those first,” said Gwen. But it was too late, they were already added to your cauldron. Much to your relief, after several minutes of stirring, it too turned a lime green. 

A half hour into your potion making, you realized you were terribly behind. Both Gwen and Toby were already mixing in their ginger root for the second time when you had just begun to add your armadillo bile. You peeked into Nevilles cauldron, who was about to add in his ginger root for the second time when you asked, “Is it supposed to be dark green?” for that was the color of Neville’s contents. Yours had just changed from red to yellow and you were on the same step. 

Neville, looking worried, gave you a shrug and seemed to be trying his hardest to not break concentration. You sighed, tapping your wand impatiently on the table (accidentally sending a few gold sparks from it’s tip) as you waited for your potion to reach the correct temperature. 

“Trouble in paradise, eh Longbottom?” hissed a voice from behind you. You turned to see both Draco and Theo smirking in Neville’s direction. Neville ignored them, keeping his eyes pointedly on his textbook. 

“Heard you couldn’t afford a ticket to the Quidditch World Cup this summer,” whispered Draco, so only the four of you could hear. Theo snickered, and you threw Draco a glare, but he looked at you innocently. 

Again, Neville seemingly pretended not to hear Dracos comment. Sneaking a peek at the round-faced boy, you saw a hard scowl colored his features and his face was was turning from pale to red, and you guessed it was not a result of the heat from his cauldron. His fist gripped the ginger root, causing his knuckles to turn white, “Though I don’t suppose it matters, with flying skills like yours. Even a first-year could--”

“Shut it, Draco,” you hissed. You did not want to hear his insults, particularly when you were having a difficult time brewing your own. Merlin the boy could not leave Gryffindors alone. 

“I’ll shut it, (Y/N). But only if you help, meet me in the library… say eight o’clock?” He quirked an eyebrow, silver eyes alight with humor. 

Your cheeks grew pink and mouth opened in shock, but you quickly clamped it shut, hardening your features, “Don’t you have a potion to finish?”

“Already done.” said Draco, indicating the top of his table. Sure enough, a shimmering bright purple Wit-Sharpening potion swirled in a corked vial in front of Draco. Theo had one as well, “Maybe you should pay attention to yours.”

“ _Shit_ ,” you breathed, remembering your task. You turned quickly to your cauldron, having forgotten to watch the temperature. Your thermometer was nearly fifteen degrees higher than the text suggested. Breathing out of your nose, you hoped it was still salvageable as you added ginger root for the second time. Staring hard at the mixture, you glanced at Neville’s to see if yours was turning the correct color, but his concoction had transformed into a lumpy charcoal-grey, and the sides of his cauldron were beginning to melt. 

“Uh… Neville?” said Toby tentatively, getting to her feet, preparing to avoid any spillage. 

“What’s this?” came a bored voice from Neville’s right. Neville looked absolutely crestfallen as Professor Snape regarded his cauldron. “First day of Potions, and already on your sixth cauldron meltdown?”

 _Six_? You could not help but pity the boy. Professor Snape lazily waved his wand, and the contents of Neville's potion vanished, “Ten points from Gryffindor, and detention, Longbottom. This evening, seven fifteen.”

He did not even protest. Neville just sat slumped in his chair, looking dejectedly at his cauldron, which had now started to fold in on itself like wilted flower petals. 

“And Miss (L/N),” said Professor Snape, turning his attention to you, “Do they not teach potions at Ilvermorny, or are they too inept to give proper guidance?”

At first you were bewildered. What prompted his question? But then you saw your potion had become the consistency of pudding. Large bubbles were now slowly bursting at the surface of your puke-green mixture, which scarcely resembled a swamp. “Uhmm. We had a different curriculum, Professor. Last year covered the twelve uses of dragon’s blood--”

“I see. A remedial topic, indeed,” he interrupted. “No student in my house fails Potions. Draco,” you peeked in his direction and he sat up straighter, “You will tutor (Y/N) twice a week until she is caught up to satisfactory. I trust you two can work out a schedule?” 

Draco nodded his head a fraction of an inch. You furrowed your brow, _tutoring with Draco_? 

“Sir,” said Gwen, “If I may. I can help (Y/N)--”

“Is that so? And tell me, how much work do you expect to accomplish? Or will you be gossiping about boys and how much make-up you own?” Gwen opened her mouth, as if trying to come up with an answer, but no words came out, “Might I remind you, Miss Ashlow, that you are only third in your year and behind Mr. Malfoy?” 

Gwen looked as dejected as Neville, now slumped in her chair, staring at her shimmering, swirling purple Wit-Sharpening potion. Professor Snape had moved onto the other side of the classroom. 

Pointedly ignoring Draco behind you, you whispered, “First time meeting my head of house, and he already thinks I’m an idiot.”

“No he doesn’t,” said Toby, simply. And when you gave her an incredulous look, she added, “He’s been in a foul mood lately. Give it time.”

“Pretty normal for me,” spoke Neville for the first time since the start of class. 

That evening you stayed behind as Gwen and Toby went to dinner. You did not feel like socializing after the way the day's events unfolded. Toby had assured you they would bring you something to eat from the Great Hall. The Slytherin common room was empty, and you sat on a black squashy leather couch in front of the fireplace whose flames were now glowing green. You had your copy of _Magical Drafts and Potions_ opened on your lap, legs folded to your side. 

Struggling to focus, your eyes wandered to the considerably enormous window, schools of bright blue and neon pink fish swam by leisurely on the other side. Suddenly, a midnight-black mass streaked swiftly across the floor and abruptly stopped before the tables students studied and played Wizards Chess on. 

It was Grimm, his wide green eyes gazed out the window, clearly fascinated by the bright blue fish. He reached up with his paw, stood on his hind legs, and batted at the glass repeatedly. Setting your book down on the table in front of the couch, you got to your feet and padded over quietly so you would not scare him. 

“Hi Grimm,” you said sweetly, reaching down to give him a rub behind his ear. Green eyes looked up at you briefly before a quiet purr came from him as he rubbed his cheek against your leg. Moving to your knees, you gazed into the lake’s depths with Grimm, tapping the glass several times to keep his attention. He turned and looked at you expectantly, and you moved to all fours, lowering your head so you were eye level. He looked at you, and then closed his eyes and lightly bumped his head against your own. Then he gave you a soft _meow_.

Bonding with the cat, you gazed into those green eyes (that really were quite lovely) and out of some strange sheer-animal instinct you meowed back, “ _Mow_.” Grimm’s marveling eyes looked at you with absolute delight, purring as loud as a kneazle. “ _Mrow_ ,” you meowed again and he instantaneously rubbed his face against your own, then trailed down to your side. Spurring you on with his affection, you meowed several more times before letting out a high pitched, “ _Mew_.”

“What are you doing?” inquired a voice from behind the black leather couch you had just been sitting on. It was Draco, and his face was absolutely enthralled. His eyes were alight with humor with a grin so cheeky you wanted nothing more than to swipe it from his stupid face with an open smack of your palm. 

Realising you were still on all fours, you quickly moved to a sitting position on your knees, “I… Uhm,” you said, grasping for anything that would save you from embarrassment. But it was too late, Draco had seen you crawling on the common room floor, _acting and meowing like a cat_. 

His smile grew wider and he prowled around the couch in your direction, a wolf stalking its prey, “ _(Y/N)_? Did you hear me, or can your brain no longer process human speech?”

Completely and absolutely mortified, you sprang to your feet and scowled deeply, “What are you doing here, shouldn’t you be at dinner?” you asked sharply.   
  
But Draco’s silver eyes, alight with delight, told you he was not done, “I didn’t know you were secretly part _cat_ , (Y/N). Should I be leaving you a bowl of cream to lap up by the front door?” he nodded in the direction of the common room entrance. 

Your face felt hot, and resisting the urge to pull your wand from your robes and hex those silver features off his face, you said coldly, “And shouldn’t you be off burrowing in some dingy hole, _ferret_?”

But your words had little effect, Draco merely raised an eyebrow, smile still in place, “If you must know, I came to set up a time so we can work on Potions... Snape said we could use his classroom. But if you’d prefer I come back at another time...”

You rolled your eyes, extra time with Draco is exactly what you did _not_ need, “Yeah. Right, like that’s going to happen. Gwen will be helping me--”

“And risk Snape finding out we didn’t do as asked? I don’t think so,” said Draco sharply, smirk finally falling from his face. 

You sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of your nose with your thumb and forefinger, “Okay. Fine. Tomorrow evening work? Seven thirty?” 

He nodded and turned toward the boys dormitories, his robes billowing behind, “Oh, and (Y/N)?” he paused, turning to you. You looked up, “Clear the classroom of mice before we meet, will you? Don’t need you getting distracted.”

“ _Draco_!” you snarled, producing your wand, advancing in his direction. But he was too quick, having already descended the spiral staircase to the boys dormitories, his laughter echoed into the common room from below. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you ever crawled on the floor to appease your pet? Grimm is based off a cat one of my old roommates owned. And yes, his name was Grimm! He was a sweet little creature and loved it when you would meow and make super high pitched noises at him.


	5. The Slytherin Prince

The following morning, you had double Defense against the Dark Arts. Many students had talked animatedly about Professor Moody’s classes all week, and those who did not have him yet were eagerly anticipating theirs. But rumor sailed around that he was not very fond of the Slytherin house. You did not think it true until you got the distinct feeling his magical eye kept following you throughout class, giving you a disquiet sort of edginess. 

“It’s because our house produced the most nefarious dreadful witches and wizards,” said Toby, “Probably took out half of them himself, didn’t he?” For Moody was a retired Auror. His first class distressed you, lecturing of the three Unforgivable Curses--one of which MACUSA believed responsible for your parents unforeseen death. When he said he would be casting one upon you the following week, your insides squirmed so horribly, you quickly exited the classroom after the lesson and dry heaved into the girls toilet. 

Gwen sent you questioning glances at lunch, but you pointedly ignored her, and stared at your _Standard Book of Spells_ , sandwich left untouched. Afterwards, you had Charms with a small wizard called Professor Flitwick. His class was a much needed relief as you practiced _Vermillious_ , a Red Sparks charm. Professor Flitwick had explained the charm is used for emergencies. “If you’re ever in danger, fire Red Sparks into the air to call for help,” he squeaked. The wand movement itself was simple and little concentration was needed, making the exercise relaxing. The room was filled with sparkling showers that radiated and spread like jubilant fireworks. 

Lastly, you had a free period with Toby. The two of you decided to spend this on the castle’s grounds in the cooling September weather. Fall was approaching, and you could not wait until the leaves changed to fire-reds and burnt-oranges. You laid in the grass at the edge of the lake underneath a large beech tree. Toby had pulled out a box of Madam Borboleta’s Sugared Butterfly Wings from her bag and you popped a purple sweet into your mouth. 

“Shame about Quidditch being cancelled this year,” said Toby, her short dark auburn hair looked almost red in the sun. 

“You like flying?” you asked, rolling over onto your side to look at her. 

She was sitting upright, butterscotch eyes staring out at the lake, absentmindedly licking the tip of a lemon flavored butterfly wing, “Oh, I’m an _excellent_ flyer.”

“Are you on the Slytherin Quidditch team?” you asked, wondering how you could have missed this detail.

She snorted, “Gosh, no. My parents would never _dream_ of allowing me to join the Quidditch team. I suspect they’d prefer I play Gobstones...”

“Then don’t tell them,” you said simply. 

“Yeah, right. You reckon Tyler would keep that detail to himself? He’d be slipping them an owl the second he saw my pinky finger touch a broom.”

“Tyler?”

“My older brother, remember? I suspect Mum and Dad are always asking him to keep an eye on me.” You had forgotten Toby mentioned she had an older brother in the sixth year, “Besides, they don’t allow girls on the Slytherin team.”

“ _What_?” you nearly spat, sitting up. At Ilvermorny co-ed teams were required, everyone got a fair shot at trying out for their house. 

“Well it’s not an _actual_ rule, but ever since Montague became team captain there hasn’t been a girl on the team,” she looked at you reproachfully, pulling the yellow butterfly wing from her lips, “Other houses have both boys and girls.”

“Chauvinistic bastard,” you scowled, folding your arms against your chest. Toby looked at you, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and you sighed “What position would you like to play?” 

“Seeker, ‘course,” Toby’s butterscotch eyes lit up and stared out at the lake. You got the distinct feeling she was absorbed in a far-off corner of her mind. You _could_ envision Toby playing Seeker. She had a small stature, like yourself. To be a Seeker, you had to be light and swift, and though rather delicate on the ground, those were the traits needed to nimbly capture a Snitch. 

“There you are,” said a voice, pulling Toby out of her revere. You looked up to see Gwen. She had removed the outer layer of her robes, revealing a grey button-up shirt that contoured the curve of her chest, long blond hair pulled back in a tie, “Professor Babbling let us out of Runes early, said this weather’s too lovely to waste.”

Gwen set down her bag and took a seat above you, supporting her body with both arms stretched out behind her, “So,” she looked at Toby dubiously, “You tell (Y/N) about the party this weekend?”

Toby groaned, and you looked from her to Gwen, “Party?”

“Every year we have a start of term party in the Sytherin common room,” said Toby. 

“You two have…” you pictured Toby and Gwen sitting in a corner of the Slytherin common room wearing party hats, green and silver streamers overhead, Grimm pawing at a board game they were playing on the floor--

“Not just us,” said Gwen, “The entire Slytherin house.”

“Brilliant,” you said, imitating the new phrase you heard a fifth-year say in the corridor outside the Charms classroom, “But what about Snape--”

“That’s the best part,” said Gwen, “Professor Snape lets us stay up late… As long as we don’t leave the Eastern Dungeon. He charms it so Flitch and Mrs. Norris can’t prance on over.”

“Said he favors our lot, didn’t I?” said Toby, giving you an _I told you so_ look. 

Though you could not imagine Professor Snape embroidering sweet phrases on a pillow, you did think it kind of him to allow a Slytherin soiree, “What about other houses? Do they have a start of term bash?” you asked. 

Gwen snorted, “Yeah, right. Can you imagine Professor McGonnagall allowing Gryffindor out of their beds past nine?” Picturing the severe-looking older woman who accompanied you to your Sorting, you determined the answer was undeniably a resounding _no_. She would not tolerate a Gryffindor party. 

“Anyway,” said Gwen, “I’ll be busy this Saturday helping with decorations.”

You gestured to the box of Sugared Butterfly wings and targeting your concentration, you focused on your palm as one fluttered into your hand, “Can you teach me that?” asked Gwen. 

“Teach you what?” you asked, putting the peach colored wing into your mouth.

“Wandless magic. They don’t teach that here at Hogwarts.” said Gwen.

“Oh… I don’t know, Gwen. I’m really not that great--”

“If you teach me, I’ll tutor you in Potions. _Pleaaaasseee_ , (Y/N)?”

You laughed, “All right! Okay, I’ll show you what I know,” You thought of your conversation with Draco last night. You were serious in the fact Gwen was going to help you with potions, but Draco had bristled, pointing out that Professor Snape would not allow it, “But Snape made it clear I’m to learn Potions with Draco.” 

Gwen did not argue this fact. As if she, too, knew Professor Snape would be quite displeased if you did not do as he requested, “How’s that going?” she asked.

Your heart dropped. After the embarrassing incident in the Slytherin common room (which you dared not tell anyone), you never wanted to see Draco Malfoy again. Throughout the day, you had tucked the fact you had a tutoring session with him this evening in a far off corner of your mind, and explicitly ignored him in any classes you had together, “Tonight’s our first session,” you said faintly, “After dinner.”

“One on one time with the Slytherin Prince,” said Gwen dubiously, “What half the girls at Hogwarts wouldn’t give for _that_ opportunity.”

“What? _Slytherin Prince_?” you scoffed. 

Gwen gave you a knowing look, “It’s a nickname he earned in our first year. Rich, handsome, pure-blood,” she rolled her eyes. 

You gazed out at the lake, and watched several tentacles breach the surface, wriggling and glistening in the sun. You wanted nothing more for the day to never end, but as you looked into the sky, the sun was already beginning to sink. Soon it would be behind the trees of the Forbidden Forest, and you would be on your way to the Potions classroom for a one on one session with the Slytherin Prince. You sighed deeply and gathered your bag as Toby suggested the three of you head to dinner. 

You walked from the Slytherin common room to the Potions classroom, bag slung over your shoulder, the quill Aunt Leenia sent you in hand. When you entered, Draco was already sitting at the table closest to the cupboards and shelves that housed ingredients. He had a copy of _Magical Drafts and Potions_ open, and a pile of parchment filled with writing in front of him. He did not look up until you set your bag down on the floor and took the seat next to him. 

“You’re late,” he commented, silver eyes stared into your own, and you felt positively sheepish under his gaze. When he turned to his book, you peeked at the clock at the front of the room and discovered you were no more than five minutes behind. You glowered at this fact, intending to refute him when he said, “I s’pose we should start with what you know. Last class you said you studied the twelve uses of dragon’s blood.”

“Well… That was only one topic,” you said, slightly embarrassed. You thought of yesterday’s Potion’s lesson. Professor Snape had dismissed the subject as _remedial_ , but you saw no judgement in Draco’s face and you continued, “We also studied Golpalott’s Third Law and Everlasting Elixirs…”

“Those are subjects we won’t go over until our sixth year,” you could not help but have a strange sense of smug satisfaction until Draco said, “But you’re missing the basics. You should already have a firm understanding of Undetectable Poisons which is the foundation for differences between Common and Uncommon antidotes and poisons.” 

He looked at you expectantly, as if determining whether or not you did, in fact know the difference between the two. When you did not respond, he sighed, “I didn’t think so. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.” 

He pushed the pile of parchment in front of you with a large palm, “What’s this?” you asked, tentatively touching the edges of the paper. They were filled from top to bottom with very neat and precise cursive. 

“These are my notes from last year,” said Draco, “I owled home after Potions. Only arrived just this afternoon.” 

“Your Mom sent--”

“Not my _Mum_. My house elf sent these,” he sounded irritated at the mention of his mother. 

“Oh...” and you thought about what you would not give to be able to owl your own mother. Back home she sent you a letter or package twice a week, sometimes they contained your favorite treats she made. You remembered her famous chocolate chip cookies that somehow remained warm and gooey by the time they made it to you, like they had just been pulled from the oven. Now you wondered what spell she had cast to keep them that way. 

“(Y/N)?” asked Draco. You turned from the notes and looked up at him with what you hoped would not be (e/c) sorrowful eyes, but it was as you feared when his hard expression immediately softened at the look on your face. His silver eyes followed your hand movement as you pulled at the tiny owl charm on your right wrist. A flicker of concern flitted across his normally haughty features, and you could visibly see his ordinarily hard exterior deteriorate. 

“So…” he spoke more gently, “I thought we could start with Undetectable Poisons. We won’t have time to make all of the potions, but we can brew two or three in the following months….”

For the next hour, Draco gave you a brief review on each section of his notes. He explained that they were divided by potency and how they were related to Common and Uncommon poisons, which you would soon be covering in Snape's class. In truth, you did not envision Draco as the studious type, but as the clock neared eight thirty, you had to admit: he was a very good tutor. You were surprised by how accommodating he was, and you understood why Professor Snape asked him to teach you. 

“Any questions?” he looked down at you, head tilted to the side.

“Not about potions…” you said slowly, he nodded in affirmation and turned to the next chapter in his potions book, which was now positioned in the center of the table, “Draco, can I ask you a question about something else?” He looked up from the book, “I heard they don’t let girls on the Quidditch team…”

He let out a breathy laugh, “Thinking of trying out for the Quidditch team next year?”

“Not me,” you said defensively and wrinkled your nose, “I was just… curious.”

“Girls are allowed to try out for the team… just haven’t made the cut the past few years.”

“I heard it’s because Montague’s team captain,” you said matter of factly. 

He seemed surprised you knew the name, “When there’s a talented enough girl to join the team then I’ll make sure she gets on.”

“ _You’ll_ make sure, huh? Well then, I know just the right girl," you were already imagining ways in which to keep Toby's older brother from reporting back to her parents. 

Draco raised his eyebrows, “And you’re _sure_ this girl isn’t you?”

“Errr, well no,” you admitted demurely, “I’m really quite clumsy on a broom…”

You felt your cheeks turn pink at your admission and Draco’s silver eyes looked down at you gently, “Well. There seems to be two things I can tutor you in then, Kitten.” 

The sentiment would have been sweet, if not for the nickname. Instead, you blanched, “ _Please_ don’t call me that, Draco. I’m _so_ mortified over last night… Don’t tell me you told anyone...” you really did not want to bring up the cat incident, and also did not think you could bear taunts from the likes of Blaise or Pansy. 

Draco flashed his perfectly white teeth in a crooked side-smile and chuckled. He held up his hands defensively, “I was only teasing, (Y/N). And no, I haven’t said anything. But I’m serious about flying, I can help you--”

“No thank you,” you said simply, “I prefer to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground.”

“You really want to pass up a flying lesson from Hogwarts’ best Seeker?” he said. You got the feeling he was trying to impress. It worked. 

“ _You’re_ Slytherin’s Seeker?” you asked, dumbfounded. He looked smug at the fact, and you thought it made sense, Gwen had told you a few days ago that Draco’s family bought the entire Slytherin Quidditch team Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones. You eyed his tall lithe frame and wondered if Toby could outfly him. 

“I promise you’ll be safe with me, (Y/N). We’ll set it up for another time.”

“Draco--”

“Now, let’s go over Antidotes for Common and Uncommon poisons…” he said, pointedly cutting off your protest. For the next fifteen minutes, you found yourself thinking there were two versions of Draco. You got the feeling he had an arrogant exterior he tried to uphold, but you caught glimpses of the kind boy beneath. His friends liked him, surely others saw something that made him trustworthy. This version of Draco was much more pleasant to talk to. He was actually _nice_ and easy to get along with, and though you would never take him up on it, he had offered to give you flying lessons. 

“It’s a lot to memorize…” you said, unsure if you would make it through the year. 

“You’re lucky I’m right behind you in class. Next time if you need help, just turn around. Nott and I know what we’re doing, not like that idiot Longbottom.”

“Don’t,” you said sharply, “Call him an idiot,” and threw him an adamant glare. Sure enough he found something to ruin your new found revelation on him. Why did he have to be such a jerk? Though you did not know Neville well, he was friendly during Potions, despite the fact you were in rival houses. Your friends enjoyed his company, and that was good enough for you. 

He looked down at you, genuine bewilderment coloring his features, “Longbottom’s rubbish at Potions,” furrowing his brow, “It’s a shame you’re sitting next to him, you saw how his cauldron turned out yesterday.”

You crossed your arms, “And you saw how _my_ potion turned out too.”

He sighed, nearly throwing his arms in the air and rolled his eyes, clearly exasperated by you, “But at least you’re _doing_ something about it, (Y/N).”

“Only because Snape made me,” you bit out, then realized the words were harsher than you meant them to be. 

Draco’s eyes instantly hardened, “Is that so?” You quailed under his gaze. His haughty features slid back into place, and the hard exterior of Draco Malfoy returned. _Slytherin Prince indeed_ , you thought. 

“Why do you always have to do that?” you asked. 

“Do what?” Draco snapped. 

“Put people down. Like you’re putting on a show. Almost like… like if they’re not in Slytherin, they’re not good enough for you. For anyone.” 

“Because half the lot that isn’t in Slytherin aren’t good enough, are they? _Pure-blood_ is what is good enough, (Y/N). As it should be for any Slytherin.” The words were so brash. So _mean_ that you did not know what to say. You sat there staring at him with wide eyes, arms folded across your chest, hands balled into fists. Gwen told you that being apart of the pure-blood lineage is what mattered in this half of the Wizarding World, but from what you gathered, less than one-fourth of Hogwarts students had it running through their veins. 

“Not every student in Slytherin is pure-blood,” you said quietly. 

Draco raised an eyebrow, “Like who?” a moment passed and he watched your features carefully before it dawned on his face, “Oh… Like your _mudblood_ friend, Gwen. And what about you, (Y/N)? Are you a mudblood?” You had never heard the word _mudblood_ before, but the way it left his lips made it sound like the most filthy derogatory term you had ever heard. Draco sat forward in his chair, waiting for your answer, “Well?”

“I don’t know!” you nearly shouted and sprang up from your seat, causing it to squeak against the floor. You thrust his notes into your bag and threw him an angry glance. He was looking at you almost questioning, but you were also quite certain you saw a hint of condescending arrogance. You felt like you were on the receiving end of the vulgar dislike he often thrust upon students in other houses, like _you_ were also not quite good enough for him, “We don’t keep track of that stuff in America," you said, feeling the need to explain, "Pure-blood. It isn’t important over there. No one _cares_ , Draco. And don’t you _dare_ call Gwen a mudblood again," you lifted your finger and jabbed it pointedly in his direction, "Or I’ll hex you so hard--”

“Chivalrous, aren’t you, (Y/N)? Always jumping to another’s rescue. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you belong in Gryffindor.” 

You stopped packing your bag. The words stung worse than he would ever know. For the second time that tutoring session, you found your small silver owl charm and gently cradled it in your left hand. His words brought up feelings you tried so hard to ignore. You could not help but wonder if you somehow disappointed your parents by being sorted into Slytherin. Before you got to Hogwarts, you had the notion that families were always sorted together and your family belonged to Gryffindor. You had kept these thoughts at bay, telling yourself and new found friends that you were content with Slytherin. 

You turned to Draco, who at first had the look of absolute triumph on his features, but after seeing yours, they immediately transformed to apprehension. Your vision became blurred, and sure enough, when you brought your hand to your face, you felt traitorous tears spilling down your cheeks, “Fuck you, _Malfoy_ ,” you spat his name like venom and slung your bag over your shoulder, quickly exiting the classroom. 

You heard shuffling behind you and could have swore you heard him call your name. But your head was numb and the tears kept falling, you were done with this conversation. Not paying attention to where you were going, your legs hastily carried you to the dark oak door of the Slytherin common room. In that moment you were grateful the Potions classroom was on the same side of the castle, " _Basilisk_ ," you croaked quietly, and it slowly opened. You passed several students who were either busy studying or playing games and you were glad when none took notice to you. 

You were relieved when you entered the girls empty dormitory. A low green fire was glowing from the hearth. You threw your bag into a corner next to your bed and pulled a knitted throw blanket out of your trunk. Curling your legs under you, you sat on the leather couch in front of the fireplace and let your tears fall. You cried until your eyes were puffy and could not breathe through your nose. As if Hogwarts sensed your needs, a tissue box appeared on the console table along with a mug of hot cocoa in a purple tea cosy. You roughly grabbed several tissues, dotted your eyes and unceremoniously blew your nose. After several deep breaths, you reached for the hot cocoa and blew lightly on the top. Looking at the surface, you saw five floating square marshmallows. They looked suspiciously like the homemade ones you made with your mother last Christmas. Sipping the thick liquid, you swallowed the rich chocolate which immediately warmed your belly. You hiccuped before taking another drink, feeling slightly more calm as you stared into the green simmering flames of the fireplace. 


End file.
